He was never perfect BUT constancy BETTER

Better is the word

Used in the mixture

Of a confused mind

On the road to perfection

But what is the reasoning

Behind my dissatisfaction

Of a man not made

For perfection

And had demons like

World rest

That my child like existence

Refuses the growth

Of solid food meaning

To forgive and forget

For a man that

Constancy was his better

For my abandonment perfection

That he never left

And tried to get my

Better and not seek

My perfection of brokenness

Breathing under Water

 

Little bubbles of air I see

As I walk to class

Floating around me

I forget I am alive for

Every few seconds I realise

To breath and take note

Of my beating heart giving up

I race in my mind to say

Breath, breath, breath

You are better than the pain

Sitting in for your shadow

I smile to myself in the

Awkward look of a passing stranger

Who smiles back

I am swimming in the thought of tomorrow

Drowning in the effort of today

And needing a lifeguard by midnight

 

The Corner Wall

I miss our conversations

The nose dripping

Waterfall heart breaking talks

You know best

I become me in the sight

Of your cold self

That warms my back

As I settle in and let it out

To you I am just a girl

Who doesn’t have to hide

You listen as I cry without

Any hidden agenda

And never a moment of interrupting

As I free myself from the days ahead

Of pretending out of your

Cold warmth

Prayer: a simple hello

How do I fathom words

Into sentences in the

Crisis of my thoughts

To the Holy of holy’s

And formulate it

To dignify the capacity

Of my words justification

In need of something

Greater than myself

And in collision of

Mind vs Spirit

Case in point to the

Creator of the universe

How do I make known

My presence to Him

In the simplicity of my being

Hello Father

 

Pride of my Clothes

We live in a society

Where bare flesh are the

Pride of a woman’s confidence

In a time where innocence

Amount to nothing and

My eyes bleed and soul

Wounds of the constant

Images of flesh

Paraded as trophies

And the look of young girls

Faced with the idea

That flesh equals beauty

And brains and integrity

A resounding empty echo

My flesh is a thing of beauty

Brought to light in the

Pride of my clothes

Fight Cries his Fist

A squeaky door makes

The nightmare of my bruised life

Sound like the ants in my

Cupboard going for their daily chores

He “I love you” sound

The hurricane of my soul

Withering away to hollow

Touches that turns

To musical notes on my flesh

Gazes at the mirror

And I ask

“just maybe I deserve it

He nods and says

“But i do love you”

A Pikin to a Mother

There are no songs

To describe her

The bravery to have

A child in a cultured society

The shame and indignity of it

The danger of my last breath

Each night was the torture

Of her existence

The love she found

In my tiny eyes

And the courage to fight

For a life she knew

Was worth something

Her prophetic gifting to see

My life play out in the

Grace of God and

The willingness to give up

Every last penny for my

Health and future

Ignoring the sound of her

Empty stomach

She is the rock on which

My foundation was built on